Of Those Who Wish It
by sufinprincess
Summary: Mathilde wants the Pretty Boy. Eiríkur wants to figure out where his love life is going. Basch wants to be left alone. But life is strange and they'll all have troubles. (DenNor, IceLiech, SwissBel)
1. Chapter 1

**I wanted to write something for some straight couples I like and I ended up coming up with this. It was supposed to be for my three fave straight couples, but I, uh, slipped in some SuFin. Sorry. Slight Nyotalia with Denmark and Sweden.**

* * *

**Nils and Mathilde**

He always sat at the table at the edge of the coffee shop, next to the window, no matter when he showed up. It didn't matter if it was sunny and bright and he had to squint when he looked out the window. It didn't matter if it was dreary and cloudy and the whole sky was a fuzzy, dark gray. It didn't matter if it was storming. It didn't matter if it was too dark to look out the window. He would sit there, laptop in front of him as he tapped away, occasionally stopping to take a drink.

He was pretty. _Very_ pretty. He had wavy, light blond hair, always pinned back by a silver hair clip, always perfectly fixed except for one stray curl. His skin looked flawless. His eyes were gorgeous, dark blue with a heavy feeling whenever they focused on something. He was slim. He moved gracefully. The way he held his cup of coffee next to his lips while staring out the window was beautiful.

Mathilde wanted Pretty Boy. She wanted him a lot. Because not only was Pretty Boy pretty, he was really hot. He had a sexy smirk and his body was just . . . wow. But she didn't just want him once. The thing was that Mathilde could imagine being with Pretty Boy for the rest of her life. He was just that good.

Now all she needed was to learn his name. And probably his birthday or something. She would need to know when to get him a present.

Unfortunately, Mathilde was unable to figure out how to approach Pretty Boy. For all the flirtatiousness in her, Mathilde didn't know how to flirt with a quiet boy. In the past two years she had worked at this coffee shop, she had seen him turn down at least ten girls. None of them were quite alike. There was a sweet, shy girl, a bodacious flirt, a cool and calm intellect, among others. She had no idea what his type was.

Maybe he was gay, she thought. Or asexual. But nah. For some reason, Mathilde was just sure that Pretty Boy liked girls.

The point was Mathilde had absolutely no idea how to go about asking out her Pretty Boy. So she decided to wing it. She actually tried with her hair, making it curly and bouncy and basically cute. She thought her hair looked like a mermaid's when she did that. She put on nice clothes, an almost short skirt and a shirt that dipped low enough to hint at her cleavage (if only she wasn't so flat-chested) and flats. Heels would have killed her during her eight-hour shift. She put on make-up, pale eye shadow that made her eyes look seductive and dark red lipstick. Mathilde thought she looked very alluring. She was excited to go through the day and see Pretty Boy and find some way to make him go on a date with her.

Pretty Boy never showed up. Mathilde waited eight hours for him. She waited loudly, complaining to any and every one that she could.

"Shut up!" said her coworker after having spent the whole day with a whiny Dane. Linnéa was a solemn education major. Mathilde was too, except for the solemn part. Linnéa fixed her hair, pinning it back with a pretty flower clip. She straightened her glasses and turned back to Mathilde. "I'm sorry that the object of your affection has yet to make his appearance, but that is no reason to disturb our customers."

Mathilde huffed and rolled her eyes. "You mean no reason to disturb _your_ object of affection." She winked overdramatically and nudged Linnéa repeatedly with her elbow, motioning over to a nearby table.

Linnéa smacked her. Her face flushed bright red. "Shut up," she snapped.

"Aw, c'mon!" Mathilde grinned. "Timo is a cutie and I know for a fact he's single right now. If you asked him out, he would definitely accept. I mean, you at least have a better chance with him than I do with Pretty Boy!"

Linnéa let out a sharp breath. She snapped around and started brewing a new pot of coffee, seeing that the last batch was just dregs. She said, "And how long will Timo be single? You know him. He flits from girl to girl like a bee does to flowers."

Mathilde giggled. "Bees pollinate flowers." She wiggled her eyebrows. "You know, even if things don't work out with Timo, _maybe_ you could just fuck him and have some fun for once in your life."

Linnéa's head snapped up. She covered Mathilde's mouth with her hair. "Don't say that!" she hissed. "He's right there! What if he heard you?"

Mathilde rolled her eyes. "Chill out. Timo is totally absorbed in— Oh. Well, I guess he's not single anymore."

Linnéa turned. A tall, gorgeous model of a girl was sitting across from Timo. He smiled his goofy smile at her and she put her hand on top of his. The look they were giving each other made her sick. Linnéa turned back around, sighing. "I didn't expect any different. That's Timo for you. He has that type. He finds a girl that looks like a model, dates her for a week, and moves on to the next."

"Technically, Linn, you fall into what he would date," said Mathilde. "You said it yourself. He likes tall girls. You're tall. And you're gorgeous. Plus, Timo tells me that the reason none of his relationships work out is because he can't imagine spending the rest of his life with them. 'I want a girl that could be wife,' he says. 'I want a girl that could be a mother.' You're like that! Go for it."

"Maybe . . . ," said Linnéa. "But it's not like I can right now. I mean, he's got . . . _that _girl."

Mathilde nodded. "True. But promise me that as soon as he breaks up with her, you will do something to get his attention. Like, oh, I don't know—let me introduce you to him." Mathilde had been friends with Timo for years, longer than she had Linnéa. She was sure that these two were perfect for each other. She had managed to convince Linnéa of that, but Timo was still a work in progress.

Linnéa shrugged, suddenly quieting. Mathilde looked and saw that Timo and the girl with him were walking out of the door.

"Hey, Mathilde!" said Timo, waving cheerfully. The girl frowned at him and he immediately started to explain who Mathilde was.

The dark blonde huffed. "He could have at least introduced her to me," she muttered. "What time is it now? Pretty Boy _still_ isn't here!"

"Closing time," said Linnéa. "Why do you think Timo and his date were leaving?"

"Damn it!" yelled Mathilde. "That means I got all dressed for nothing."

Linnéa shrugged. She ignored her and locked the door before starting to clean. Grumpily, Mathilde began to help, taking the mop out of the closet and cleaning around the tables.

They worked quietly for about ten minutes before Mathilde noticed something moving outside of the door. She stealthily mopped her way over to an area in which she could look out, hoping it wasn't some sort of weirdo and—oh, it was Pretty Boy. She turned her back, pretending she hadn't noticed and mopped over to Linnéa, who was cleaning the tables.

"Pretty Boy is here," she whispered.

Linnéa didn't look up. "Maybe he waited until you shift was over to ask you out," she said dryly. "Take you to his apartment for a night of love."

"Don't be—do you really think?"

Linnéa rolled her eyes. "I doubt it."

Mathilde sighed. She asked, "What do I do? I mean, I look all nice so I should talk to him, right?"

"If you want."

"But he's just standing out there!" she cried. "I have no idea why."

"Just tell him we're closed," said Linnéa. "If he says he wasn't wanting to come in, just tell him that you wanted an excuse to say something to him. Be your usual flirty self."

Mathilde grinned. "That's perfect! Be right back!" She dropped the mop on the floor and ran to the door, fumbling with the key as quickly as she could. She poked her head outside and then realized that he couldn't see her outfit like that. So she stepped out all the way, somehow managing to stay under the little awning. She hadn't noticed that it was raining. Why was Pretty Boy just standing like that?

Pretty Boy turned to look at her.

"Um, we, uh, we're closed," she stuttered out. Smooth, she thought. She tried to lean against the door. Her shoe slipped and she barely managed to catch herself.

"Yes," agreed Pretty Boy. "I was hoping that I would be able to arrive in time to grab a cup and go, but I was too late." He shrugged. "I suppose I'll go now."

"Wait!" cried Mathilde. When he turned back around, she froze, not knowing what to say. She made a gesture that she know would attract the attention of almost any straight male or gay female to her clothing. He didn't react at all. "Um. Hi, I'm Mathilde. Would you like to go out some time?"

Pretty Boy's face didn't move. "Nils," he said. "I'm sorry, but I must refuse. Thank you for the offer."

Pretty Boy—Nils—turned and started to walk away again. Mathilde frowned.

"Why are you refusing?" she demanded.

"Am I required to give you a reason for my refusal?" Nils asked. His face was still impassive. It kind of made Mathilde mad.

She growled. "Well, no, but I've seen you reject a bunch of other people and I just want to know why."

Nils shrugged. "I'll be blunt . . . ," he paused, making a slight face. Unsurely, he said, "Mathilde? Well, I'm not a dating sort. I have stuff I need to do and I'm happy with my life. At this moment, I have everything I could want. Maybe later I'll want to date, but I'm good for now. If you'll please, I need to get home. My brother is alone."

With that, he swiftly took off, not giving any time for Mathilde to respond.

She stormed back inside. Linnéa looked at her as she plopped onto a table and laid down her head.

"Didn't go well?"

"You can't say anything until you try asking Timo out."

**Eiríkur and Elise**

She was sitting across the classroom. Too far, Eiríkur thought. He couldn't get a good look at the expression she was making, although he could tell she was highly concentrated on her algebra. Eiríkur should have been as well, but—well, he was more concentrated on her.

Two weeks ago, Eiríkur would have never thought he would have been staring at Elise Vogel as if she was the best person in the world. Two weeks ago, Eiríkur would have never thought he'd stare at any girl like she was the best person in the world. Honestly, two weeks ago, Eiríkur thought he was gay. But then he broke up with Leon and suddenly he was noticing the cute girl that was Elise Vogel.

Eiríkur had known Elise for a long time. They'd gone to school together for who knows how long, but he had never noticed her before. The only thing remarkable about her had been how she consistently altered between short and long hair and how she was super smart. But eight days ago (four days after his break-up with Leon), he had looked at Elise and realized that her dark blonde hair was shiny and the way it flipped was cute and her green eyes sparkled when she smiled and her giggle was cute and she was sweet and funny. Eight days ago, Eiríkur realized he could like Elise

Considering that Eiríkur had thought he was gay, he was intrigued. He continued to watch Elise whenever he could and next thing he knew, he was heads over heels for her.

Okay, perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration. He was only seventeen. He wasn't quite ready for love yet. But Eiríkur did like her, at least, and he knew he wanted to date her.

For another boy, this wouldn't have been much of a problem, but Elise was the first girl he had ever liked. Before her, it had been all boys. He'd liked the manager of his and his brother's apartment building, he had liked his favorite superhero, he had liked Leon, and he had even liked the senior he had met in band class. Elise was the first girl and he had to wonder if she would be the last. He wondered if it was just a fluke and eventually he would go back to liking all boys.

Eiríkur put his head down on his desk. Ugh. If only he hadn't come out to his brother. Nils hadn't exactly cared ("Do what you want. Just don't date an asshole."), but he would probably raise a brow if Eiríkur miraculously changed his sexuality in a month.

He caught eyes with Leon as he walked toward the pencil sharpener directly behind Eiríkur. Eiríkur snapped his head back around and began pretending to work on his math. He wondered if it felt as awkward for Leon, considering he was the one who dumped him. But he would never know because Eiríkur couldn't turn around and Leon was just sharpening his pencil quietly. Finally, the noise ceased and Eiríkur could relax. He looked over to Elise and—damn it. The clock was also conveniently near him, or at least close enough for Elise to notice his gaze when she turned to check the time. Eiríkur looked at the whiteboard. He sighed and checked to see if Elise was still looking. Perhaps she would blush.

No. Elise was just sitting quietly. She had a book out. She must have finished her work. She wasn't blushing, to his disappointment. Eiríkur guessed he kind of hoped she would have. He'd hoped that maybe she'd harbor the same feelings. But it was impossible. He'd just have to settle for watching her from across the classroom.

Now Elise's friend in front of her had finished and they were whispering to each other. Elise had a small smile on her face. She looked good like that. Eiríkur wanted her to smile all the time. He wanted to make her smile all the time.

Suddenly, the bell rang. Shit. Eiríkur hurriedly put his stuff in his bag and rushed out the door. His next class took forever to get to.

**Emma and Basch **

Basch hated people. He really did. They were all pushy and annoying. They talked too much, they blocked the walking path, and they said stupid things. Every single person sucked. Except for his sweet little friend Elise. Elise was okay. No, Elise was good. Basch and Elise had become friends while he was still in high school and they had just stuck together. Basch couldn't help but want to take care of her. She was too sweet and good. She was the only person that was sweet and good.

He read a text from her that she must have sent before going to school. She would have never taken her phone out during class.

**To: Basch Zwingli**

**From: Elise Vogel**

**Subject: N/A**

**Message: Hey, Basch! Hope you have a good day! Good luck on that test! Miss you! 3**

A smile unwillingly slipped on his face. From an outsider's view, it would have looked like Elise and Basch were dating, but it wasn't that. They were just extremely close. She was his unofficial little sister and as her brother it was his job to protect her. But even the thought of Elise couldn't cheer Basch up at that moment though.

He growled, pushing his way through the crowd as he tried to get to the bus stop on time. The stupid bus system. This was the last bus that would run to where he needed to go and if he didn't catch it, Basch would be forced to take a cab and those cost too much. Basch didn't even like to pay to take the bus.

He sped up and knocked into someone. He scowled. Now he _was_ going to miss the bus.

"Oh, sorry!" the person was saying. She fumbled around, gathering up her books, and once she had finished her own, she began placing Basch's things in his arms. "I'm terribly sorry. I was distracted in thought and—there you go. You can go on your way now!"

Basch shrugged. "Must have missed the bus by now," he mumbled grumpily.

The girl frowned. She tucked her hair behind her ear—what was the point in that? She was wearing a headband. "Oh, dear. Well, you can catch the next one?" she said hopefully.

Basch shook his head. "Last one."

"Oh." The girl looked troubled. "Let me— Let me get you a cab or something."

Basch frowned. He didn't like to owe people. He said, "No. It's fine."

The girl shook her head. "You have to. I mean, I have to. Don't feel bad. It's my money and it's my fault you missed the bus in the first place. I mean, my brother won't exactly like that I'm wasting money on a stranger on my first day in town, but it's my fault so . . . ." She awkwardly laughed. Basch couldn't help but think that was familiar. She did look familiar. Yeah, she looked like that girl he went to high school with. Emma Something-or-Other.

"Um," he started awkwardly, "did you maybe . . . live here before? Like in high school?"

The girl paused. She nodded eagerly. "Yes, why? Oh, did we go to school together or something?" She took a good look at his face. "Are you the angry kid that owned a lot of guns? Basch? Oh, I probably shouldn't have said that to you. I'm Emma," she said.

Basch frowned. "It's Basch. Look, I can't let you pay for my cab and I really need to get going."

"Where are you going?" Emma asked.

"Downtown," he answered shortly. "The apartments by the grocery store."

Emma grinned. "What a coincidence. So am I. I had no idea that was the last bus. I guess I'll have to take a cab. And since we're going to the same place, we might as well share."

Basch could see that he had no way out of this. He sighed. "Fine. There's usually a bunch lined up over there. Let's go."

Emma skipped happily beside him. "We never really talked during high school, Basch," she said.

Basch nodded. Truth be told, he hadn't paid much attention to Emma during high school. She'd just been another girl. She was a girl that liked to cook, a girl that liked food a little too much. At most, she had been a girl that was a little fat. He looked at her. Now, she was—well, he had to say she was probably still all of those things. But he couldn't help but think there was something different about her. Maybe her face was covered in make-up? No, he didn't think so.

Basch brushed off that thought. He walked over to a cab and held the door open for her.

"Wow, a gentleman!" Emma chirped as she took a seat. Basch climbed in beside her.

"Whatever."

The trip was unfortunately not silent. Emma continuously tried to draw him into conversation and Basch continuously shot her down. He just wanted to get home and do his homework and maybe, if he had time, message Elise. He did not want to talk to a chatty girl he knew from high school. But all things came to an end—thank God—and the cab pulled up at the apartments. Basch leaned to pay, but Emma cut him off. She beamed at her victory.

"You didn't really need to come here, did you?" asked Basch.

Emma grinned. "Unfortunately for you, I did. My apartment is right up there." She pointed up the side of the building towards the top. "Where do you live?"

Basch stormed away. He was not exactly pleased to have a new neighbor.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Nils and Mathilde**

The door to the apartment clicked loudly as it was unlocked. The roar of the rain rang through the living room now that the door was opened. Nils stepped in, dripping wet, having not taken an umbrella or even worn a coat with a hood. He wiped his feet on the mat and shut the door. He sighed loudly and ran a hand through his hair before looking over to where his brother sat at the kitchen table, hard at work doing homework. Nils smiled. If there was one person in his life he cared about, it was his brother.

"Eiríkur."

Eiríkur looked up at his brother. Nils was putting his coat in the closet. Eiríkur looked back down at his homework and sighed loudly.

Nils looked over at him. He walked over to the table and leaned over Eiríkur's shoulder. "Having trouble?" he asked.

"I'm fine," snapped Eiríkur.

Nils shrugged. "If you say so. But I'm here to help if you need it. What do you want for dinner?"

"Don't care."

Nils nodded. He stepped into the kitchen and looked through the fridge. There were a lot of leftovers. Nils thought that perhaps he should just use those. After all, he'd had a long day of work and he wasn't feeling up to cooking. He hummed in thought. "Soup okay?" he called.

"Yeah," was his answer.

Nils set to heating up two bowls. "Did you have a good day at school?" he asked. He received a short answer as always. Nils sighed. He always tried to get Eiríkur to open up to him and it never seemed to work. He had to guess that it was just his age. After all, Eiríkur was seventeen and Nils was twenty-four. It was a seven year age gap. But Nils still wanted to be close to his little brother. He missed the little-six-year-old that followed him everywhere and always wanted a good night kiss from his big brother.

Nils sighed again. Eiríkur looked up.

"Do _you_ need help?" he asked.

Nils shook his head. "No," he said. "Just keep working on your homework."

Eiríkur nodded. It was quiet for a moment.

"How's your boyfriend?" Nils asked.

Eiríkur frowned. He gritted out, "Leon and I broke up almost two weeks ago."

"What?" Nils exclaimed. He frowned. "I had no idea . . . . Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" Eiríkur snapped. He looked at his homework. He wasn't even close to done, but he didn't want to be in this room anymore. It was like Nils didn't even pay any attention to Eiríkur. "I'll be in my bedroom." He slammed his book shut and left his notebook on the table, starting to storm off. He threw the pencil down, not caring that it cracked.

Nils frowned. "Eiríkur," he said calmly, "clean off the table. There's no need to go to your room. It's almost dinner time."

"Not hungry." He pushed his stuff to the side. "There. Enough room for you."

Then, Eiríkur was in his room and the door slammed. The TV was turned on and surely he had his headphones in. He would do anything to ensure that he wouldn't be able to hear Nils.

Nils lowered his head. It was like everything with Eiríkur just got worse and he had no idea how to fix it. His thoughts drifted to the coffee girl. His decision in rejecting her was solidified. He didn't have time for a relationship while trying to take care of his brother. Eiríkur would be off to college in a year and then maybe Nils would try dating again. For now, he would cherish the time he had with his brother and help him with school and college applications.

Nils finished heating up the soup. He ate his bowl quickly and left the other bowl on the counter for Eiríkur. He made a show of going to his room and waited until he heard Eiríkur "sneak" out to get his dinner to pull out his laptop.

He grabbed the flash drive from his bedside table. He plugged it in and watch as the contents flashed onto his screen. Chapters 1 through 13 of his work-in-progress book were in front of him. He clicked on 13. There it was half-finished.

Nils sighed. At twenty-four, he should have already completed this by now. He'd started it his freshman year of college. But Nils couldn't help but go back and change things. He was so indecisive.

The coffee girl popped into his mind again. What if he had said yes? Nils had to admit she was pretty. He could imagine dating her. Whenever she took his order, she was chipper and silly. Some days, it annoyed him. But some days, he found it nice. It was nice to have someone so open about their happiness.

The idea was silly. He didn't have the time for a relationship and he knew it. Nils looked at the time. 9:00 p.m. He had work 6:00 a.m. the next day. He shut his laptop and got ready for bed.

**Eiríkur and Elise**

Elise bounced happily. It was the first time in three months that she was going to meet up with Basch. Now that he was in college, he was always so busy. Elise hated to bother him. That's why she always waited until he asked her to do something, which was usually just going over to his apartment and hanging out. Basch wasn't much for going out. But Elise loved whatever time she had with him. He was like her brother, except . . . more special.

Still, Elise was a bit worried. This was the meeting with Basch in which she would have to tell the truth.

Basch, now a sophomore in college, was three years older than Elise. He had been a senior during her freshman year. They'd met in band class and from then on had been extremely close. He was extremely overprotective of Elise, which she actually kind of relished. It was nice to know that someone cared for her and would always look out for her.

That's what made this so hard though.

At sixteen-years-old, Elise Vogel had been diagnosed with clinical depression.

No one had seen it coming. After all, how could cheerful, sweet Elise have any problems? Sure, her parents were divorced and her family was a bit dysfunctional and maybe she had too much pressure to succeed in school, but she was always happy, so it couldn't matter much.

Once her parents found out, they were immediately very supportive. The doctor prescribed her a medicine and she was to take it every single night. Her friends were very good as well. Mei always hugged and smiled and reassured her as best as she could. Angelique was sweet as well. Lien didn't quite know what to say, but she was still good. Elise hadn't been able to tell anyone else. She was too nervous.

It was a given that she would tell Basch. She told Basch everything. Well, almost everything. After all, Basch didn't need to know about her period problems or anything. She just told him stuff that wouldn't make either of them uncomfortable unless it was absolutely necessary. And this was necessary. Basch would be really mad if he found out that Elise didn't tell him, which would never happen. Elise had never once considered not telling Basch.

That wasn't true. She felt a little guilty for lying to herself, but it helped to console her nerves.

"Elise."

Elise looked up. She moved her bag from the bench and gestured for Basch to sit. "How have you been?" she asked cheerfully. "The bus should be here in about ten minutes. Are we going to eat at that coffee shop? Or are you in the mood for something different?"

Basch shrugged. He said, "I don't care. Whatever you want is fine."

Elise smiled. "Come on! You choose."

"Café," Basch agreed, even though it was the more expensive of the two. He knew Elise liked the café a lot and he would do just about anything for her. Elise held back a laugh. For all of his gruffness, Basch was really a sweetheart.

Elise smiled. "Mom gave me some money. So I'll pay, but lunch is technically on her."

Basch brightened up at the idea of not having to splurge from his tight budget. Elise couldn't help but giggle at that. Basch gave her a look and pestered her about it, but Elise continued to laugh, covering her mouth with her hand and leaning down. She giggled until her stomach hurt and Basch watched fondly.

"Is that a new coat?" he asked.

Elise grinned. She stood up and spun around. "Isn't it cute? It was on sale," she pointed out and Basch told her that he was proud of her. She giggled again. "They had three colors: white, teal, and pink. I wanted all of them, but Dad said I could only have one so I put back the white, but I managed to convince him to buy me the teal one too. Don't give me that look! I'll wear both! Having something isn't a waste if you'll use it." She plopped back down on the bench.

Basch nodded.

"So how have you been?" Elise didn't mind asking all the questions. She was used to keeping up the majority of their conversations.

"Good," said Basch. "The only problem is that it's December and the new semester is coming up and that means more money wasted at college."

The girl shook her head. "My goodness, Basch. You're so cheap," she teased.

Basch rolled his eyes. "Just, get on the bus, Li-Li."

Elise walked up the steps. She paid her fare and took a seat, waiting for Basch to do the same.

"Fare is getting expensive," he complained.

Elise shook her head. Her short hair swung around, a bit flying into her mouth. She spat it out. "Mr. Zwingli, what have I told you about negativity? It is not a good thing to have in your life. Elise Vogel refuses to be around negative people so you'd better change your attitude." She playfully swatted his shoulder.

They sat in companionable silence for the bus ride. Elise checked her phone and Basch retreated into his thoughts. This pattern had always suited them. When the bus came to a stop, Basch stood and scooted out so Elise could exit. She pushed him forward, bouncing happily in thought of lunch. They exited the bus. As her feet hit the sidewalk, Elise was reminded of what she would need to do on this lunch and her stomach sunk. She forced a smile up.

"Something wrong?" Basch asked.

Elise shook her head. "Come on. Let's go."

They walked down the street to the café three blocks away. As they passed the coffee shop, Basch mentioned that he was glad they weren't going today. He spotted two girls he went to school with and one was not one he cared to be around. "Too chatty," he told Elise. She giggled and told him that he thought everyone was too chatty.

The café was surprisingly not crowded for a Sunday. They ordered and took a seat, waiting for their food to be served.

Elise took a quick look around. There was no one she knew here. Even better, there was hardly anyone seated close to their table. Surely no one would hear their conversation. She took a deep breath and looked at Basch.

"My doctor put on me on medication for depression."

Basch's head flipped around so he was looking at her. He said nothing.

Elise continued, "He diagnosed me with clinical depression. He also said the medicine helped with anxiety, which is good because you know how stressed I can get with school and stuff. I've been on it for a month now. I think it's working pretty well, but . . . . Well, I just hope that will continue."

Basch frowned. "Why are you depressed?"

Elise sighed. "It's a chemical imbalance. Don't you know this?"

"Yes!" he snapped. "I just . . . . _You_ . . . ."

Elise smiled reassuringly. She said, "I knew you'd react like this. That's why I wanted to tell you in person."

"Why did none of your cousins tell me?"

"I asked Ludwig not to," said Elise. "Gilbert and Roderich don't know. Gil can't exactly . . . keep a secret, and Roderich would tell Erzsébet and I'm sorry, but I don't want her fussing over me. I love her, really, but—" Elise sighed. Erzsi could really be overbearing. She was just a bit too motherly and couldn't stand to see anyone sad.

Basch nodded. He was silent. He took Elise's hand and squeezed it. He said, "If you need anything, ask me. I promise I'll help."

Elise smiled. "I know, Basch. Don't worry. The medicine is helping, really. I just thought you should know."

"I'm glad you told me," he assured you. A waiter came by and placed their food on the table. Basch took a sip of his drink. "Any boys I need to scare?"

Elise shook her head. "Don't be silly!" she chided. "I could scare them myself!" She made a mock tough look and laughed. "Ludwig and Gilbert would take care of that. Or Roderich would get Erzsi and she'd freak them out."

Basch nodded. "It's always nice to know my little sister is good hands. Or . . . semi-good hands. At least I know there's two."

Elise rolled her eyes. "Oh, so the other day . . . ."

**Emma and Basch**

Emma texted her brother. She went to the kitchen to make dinner. She ate quietly by herself. Once she'd finished and cleaned up the apartment, she grabbed a chocolate bar and sat down in the living room. She checked her phone. No response.

Emma put down her phone and sighed.


End file.
